Mr. D. just sat there. I could see well oiled gears turning in his head. He stared straight out toward the stage and the band. The music, which had been playing the whole time my life sapped away returned to my ears.

The Duke’s Solitude groaned through my soul.

…I sit and I stare…

I spent a moment looking around the vibrant beauty of The Topaz, what I had built. I kept away from DiSibio’s eyes. My face was surely a twisted mess. My veneer cracked and gray. I suddenly felt totally useless, especially at Mr. D.’s table.

“Mr. D. I have to attend to some other issues.” I boldly asserted, which turned his head toward me. He smiled oddly.

“Yes Vincenzo, please do what you do. Don’t worry now. Run your club. Try to stay focused on that.” He smiled again like a father.

I stood and immediately felt the concussion I had sustained. A fuzziness overtook my senses and I wobbled off toward my office. I barely navigated the stairs and fell through the double doors.

Here I felt strangely safe.